


The Swan Maiden

by Keliana856



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: (but seriously a lot of stuff happens during the full moon), Adult Nicole, And not just werewolf stuff!, But... c'mon, Cursed Immortality, Eventual Wayhaught romance, F/F, FIIIIIIIGHTING EVIL BY MOONLIGHT, Initial Wayhaught friendship, It's gonna take a while to get there though, NGL I love me some werewolves, Slow Burn Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Swan Princess AU, Young Waverly, also, for once, i'll stop, sorry - Freeform, winning love by daylight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18494002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keliana856/pseuds/Keliana856
Summary: Young Waverly Earp has just been the victim of a hideously cruel prank by her sisters, and so flees the Earp homestead and into the deep winter's night. After getting lost in a snow-capped forest and nearly succumbing to hypothermia, who should happen upon her other than Nicole Haught. Only, Nicole has a curse of her own that she has to deal with, as well as some feathers on her cape. And they're not alone out in the forest...OrThe Swan Princess AU!





	The Swan Maiden

**Author's Note:**

> The Swan Princess AU!
> 
> This was inspired ENTIRELY by a prompt on Twitter, from He'e Nalu commenting on Kat and Dom's amazing matching dresses at the 2019 Canadian Screen Awards: "A powerful spell is cast that turns Waverly into a swan during the day. At night, she can become human temporarily if only she is on the lake when the moonlight touches it, #WayHaught write-me-a-Swan-Princess-AU Challenge" (https://twitter.com/heathermgirls/status/1113834294974263297) 
> 
> I LOVED that fic idea so much, I just had to write it, with just one minor change - Nicole's the one who's cursed with the Swan spell, and it's up to Waverly to find a way to break the curse... after she survives growing up in the Earp homestead and also dodges any of the several other creatures who've been similarly cursed but without all (or any) of Nicole's grace and fortitude.
> 
> This is going to be a long haul folks, strap in.

_Oh! give me a land where the bright diamond sand_

_Throws its light from the glittering streams,_

_Where glideth along the graceful white swan,_

_Like the maid in her heavenly dreams._

– _“My Western Home”, Dr. Brewster M. Higley, 1872_

 

+++

  8

+++

 

“Waverly! Get back here this instant!”

 

The young girl continued to sprint over the fresh snow as quickly as her short legs could propel her, her breath a blanket of mist erratically billowing forth in front of her as her lungs rapidly sucked in the sharp air and just as rapidly expelled it. The tears in her eyes clouded her vision of the white covered landscape ahead of her, and the setting sun behind her was starting to cast shadows over the land, but she still kept barreling forward .

 

She had no intention of getting back there, that instant or otherwise. _Willa_ had gone too far, and 'Nonna had _laughed_ too hard, Momma was _gone_ , and Daddy hadn't done _anything_ to stop any of it. Even the house itself had seemed to mock her.

 

How could she stay in a house that _hated_ her so much? Didn't Cinderella leave her nasty stepmother and sisters to look for a better life? Couldn't she do the same?

 

So she ran, and she ran, and she ran. She ran until she couldn't hear her Daddy's hollering anymore. She ran until she had scrambled over the dilapidated fence line of the Earp property. She ran until she couldn't see the homestead behind her anymore. She ran until her lungs and her legs screamed even louder at her than her Daddy had done.

 

And then she ran a little more.

 

The forest ahead of her –evergreen pine trees dusted white with the morning's snowfall– quickly swallowed her up as she barreled straight into the tree line, and she dodged between the hulking trunks which reached up into the sky many times taller than she was. The sounds of her breath and the crunch of the ice and leaves and branches beneath her boots started echoing all around her, the forest reflecting her noises and swallowing everything else within its endless blanket of brown growth.

 

Finally, she couldn't ignore the tightness in her chest anymore. She stomped to a halt, and bent over at the knees to catch her breath. She hadn't run like that since... maybe ever? She'd certainly never gone this far from the homestead on foot.

 

She stayed bent over, breathing in the pine sap and the freezing air, for several minutes, until the burning in her chest and her legs eventually eased. She stood up straight once again, and looked up for the first time in the depths of the forest that she'd only ever seen from a far distance.

 

The tips of the trees far above her were awash in the light of the setting sun, endless explosions of brilliant light as it bounced off the snow-capped leaves and filtered down to the forest floor. It was as if  a great giant had laid a shining golden wreath on the top of every tree in celebration of the Earth itself.

 

Waverly looked back down at the forest floor beneath her. Well, if anything deserved to be celebrated, it was the Earth. _She_ certainly wasn't worthy of it.

 

She sniffled. But she didn't cry again, not yet anyways. The forest may have been pretty to look at, but she knew she had to keep moving. Daddy might still come looking for her, and even if he didn't, she needed some kind of shelter. Maybe there was a cave nearby?

 

With a determined nod, and a flick of Willa's scarf that had come a little bit loose during her run back over her shoulder, she continued forward.

 

+++  

 

The sun had all but set by this point, and Waverly was starting to have trouble seeing in front of her. And yet the forest continued to stretch in every direction all around her.

 

With the light of the setting sun, she'd at least been able to have some sense of which direction she'd been heading in. But now, as the light of the sky had dimmed from bright orange to dim purple and no longer cast shadows in a single direction, she couldn't tell which way was which. She tried to make sure that she kept in a straight line with the tracks she'd made behind her, but stepping around all of the tree trunks and bushes made that a lot harder than she'd thought. And there still wasn't any sign of a cave or any place else she could stay safe in for the night.

 

Her forward momentum came to a sudden halt when she heard the unmistakably lonely cry of a wolf far off in the distance. With the trees reflecting the sound all around her, it was impossible to tell where it'd come from or just how far off it was, but Waverly was now very much aware that there were dangerous creatures out here in the wild, and there wasn't anything between them and her.

 

A bloom of anger erupted in her chest. _Stupid_ Willa. _Stupid_ 'Nonna. _Stupid_ Daddy. She wouldn't have had to run if they hadn't been so mean. She wouldn't be stuck in the middle of a forest at night and surrounded by hungry wolves if they'd had even a _little_ bit of decency.

 

The anger in her chest grew hotter and hotter, until a little dam inside of her burst, and she just _had_ to kick something. So she kicked the nearest tree trunk in front of her.

 

Her boot absorbed most of the impact, but the solid _thunk_ sound it made against the bark and the rumble that went up her leg were satisfying. So she did it again.

 

_Thunk!_

 

_Thunk!_

 

“Stupid Daddy.” _Thunk!_

 

“Stupid 'Nonna!” _Thunk!_

 

“ _Stupid Willa!” Thunk!_

 

_“STUPID MOMMA!” Thunk!_

 

That last shout she'd made was loud enough to reverberate through the trees, and her own voice echoed back at her, condemning her Momma.

 

She hadn't meant to. Not really. She loved Momma! She did.

 

But Momma hadn't loved her. Not enough, anyways.

 

The bloom of anger in her chest wilted and died, and she felt tears starting to form in her eyes. She shook her head, and wiped clumsily at her cheeks with the sleeves of her jacket.

 

A cold wind shook through the forest around her, mostly stirring the leaves and branches above her, but some fraction of the gust still breathed down through the forest floor and past her, and she shivered at the touch of the vesper. The jacket she'd grabbed in her blind dash out of the house was an old denim one that had been fine for her while she'd been sprinting as fast as she could across the countryside, but now that she wasn't moving a mile a minute and working up a sweat, the relatively thin material didn't do nearly enough to keep out the chill of the freezing air, nor did it break the early winter wind which was starting to pick up again.

 

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad if she could build a fire... but there was a trick to starting a fire without a match, and Daddy hadn't taught her that. He'd taught it to Willa and 'Nonna, but she guessed that he thought she wouldn't need it. Why bother teaching anything to _little_ Waverly? He clearly had more important things to do.

 

So, if she couldn't make a fire, and she couldn't go back, then she could only keep going forward. And that's what she did.

 

+++

 

The sky had gone completely dark, save for the silvery glow of the full moon which could just barely be glimpsed rising between the jagged obsidian trunks of the forest and the clouds which still bubbled and churned in the night's sky.

 

Tiredness and frostbite dragged at every part of Waverly's small body. Even her normally snow-impervious boots couldn't keep her toes from tingling with numbness, Willa's scarf just wouldn't stay wrapped around her ears no matter how she tried to tie the knot around her neck, and her entire body rippled with shivers every time a new gust of wind whistled through the trees. She was starting to lean against the trees whenever a zephyr would blow harder than ever, using the sticky bark as a shield until the wind died back down again. But she couldn't stay, she knew that much at least.

 

So she kept moving forward.

 

Until she came across a clearing. A lake. It hadn't completely frozen over yet, and a light fog rolled over the liquid center, but the edges of the water were already covered in a layer of ice which shimmered in the light of the moon. She looked up into the night sky at the moon; full yet distant, and partially covered by clouds which moved at a steady pace and obscured most of the stars she loved to look at.

 

Glancing around the full circle of the lake, she didn't see any kind of cave or other shelter. Just more woods all around her. She let out a small whimper at the sight of it.

 

She wasn't going to find a place to stay warm tonight.

 

Another gust of wind pelted her side, and she moved to hug the nearest tree by the shore line. It provided some relief, but not much, and her entire body was wracked with shivers.

 

The gust died down, but still she clung to the tree. It was the only thing she _could_ cling to. The only thing that would allow it.

 

A sniffle gave way to another sniffle, and that one to yet another sniffle, until the tears began streaming down her face. She'd made it this far without crying, and she was probably going to die out here in the cold too. She'd earned the right at least to sob against something solid.

 

She didn't cry loudly, not really. There wasn't anyone to make a show of it for, except for the tree trunk she was currently clutching. She was all too aware of the shuddering gasps of breath she made in between the low keening sounds she couldn't help but release with every exhale. But she was too cold and too tired to care.

 

A sound of splashing water sharply drew Waverly's attention, and she turned her head towards the source in the direction of the lake.

 

Although the direct light of the moon was mostly obscured by dark, rolling clouds at that moment, there was enough ambient moonlight to expose the silhouette of a large bird resting as water foul are wont to do on the liquid surface of the center of the lake. Waverly didn't know a whole lot about birds, but even from the considerable distance between herself on the shore line and the avian newcomer, she could tell that it was _big_.

 

The bird was currently moving towards her but at an angle, silently, as though pulled through the freezing water by some gossamer string too fine to actually see, and Waverly could just barely make out the long, elegant curve of its neck as it bowed upward from its body and ended in a recognizably narrow head. What was it that what Wynonna had called them one day while looking at a National Geographic magazine? A grease?

 

Her questions about names as well as any other thoughts she might have in her head fell completely silent as two events occurred in rapid succession: The bird reached the threshold between the still-liquid water and the properly frozen ice, and the cloud bank overhead broke just enough to allow a shaft of clear moonlight to spill onto the lake.

 

In that moment, Waverly's vision of the bird shimmered, and instead of a bird, there arose from the frigid waters of the lake and onto the ice sheet a woman – a very pretty woman! – wearing a semi-translucent silver-grey dress that hung from her bare, pale neck all the way down to her silver slippers, and a coat made from an obviously fluffy feather down.

 

If Waverly's jaw wasn't clenched tight from the shivers currently rippling up and down her body, she was sure that it would be hanging open in a welcome invitation to any nearby flies. Very pretty women in fine evening wear simply did _not_ rise up from a freezing lake looking as though she'd never had a drop of water touch her in her life.

 

Except, this one had.

 

The woman tilted her head slightly as she looked at Waverly, and for the first time Waverly let her attention be drawn to the fact that the lake lady had coppery red hair hanging down in a braid which was draped over her left shoulder. The braid also looked as though it hadn't just emerged from a freshwater bath, and Waverly continued to be at a complete loss for words within her head. Was this just a dream?

 

Another gust of arctic wind danced around her cruelly, and her body seized up on itself in protest. If it was a dream, it was a sucky one where 'Nonna had stolen every single blanket in existence.

 

“Are... are you alright little girl?”

 

Waverly was barely able to open her eyes –it was too cold to look against the wind– and see that the _very tall_ lake lady had stepped much closer to her than before, just outside of her arm's reach, and was bent over towards her slightly at the waist. Just as her hair and clothes seemed completely nonplussed by having emerged from the water, the lake lady herself appeared equally unconcerned with the frigid air which was by the second leeching the life from Waverly's huddled form.

 

It took a moment for Waverly to process the question that had been asked of her. The shivering and the numbness in her cheeks made answering “N-n-no” all the more difficult.

 

The lake lady seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes fretting to and fro across Waverly's form before looking up and scanning the shoreline around her. When she didn't seem to find anything, she turned her attention back to Waverly. “Are you cold?”

 

Waverly could only blink at the question. She could practically hear 'Nonna's sarcasm contests with Willa playing in her mind. The temperature was well below freezing and falling fast, the wind was carving into her arms and legs –never mind her toes and fingers, which had completely lost all feeling some minutes ago–  and here this woman was asking if she was _cold?_

 

Fortunately for Waverly and her distaste of having to borrow her sisters' uglier mannerisms, the lake lady quickly made the painfully obvious connection for her. With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Well, obviously it's cold. _Duh_.” She shook her head, the copper braid of hair falling from her shoulder with the motion. “But... what I mean is...” Waverly watched as she gave one last glance at the woods behind her before she finally asked with very carefully enunciated words, “May I help to keep you warm?”

 

It didn't even take a full moment for Waverly to nod her assent. She knew that strangers shouldn't be trusted, especially not ones that might actually be giant magical birds in disguise, but Waverly knew that she wasn't going to survive without some kind of help. She only hoped that she didn't have to look after an egg or something afterwards.

 

Lake lady nodded, as much to herself as to Waverly, and slowly closed the distance between them as she moved to sit down next to Waverly. As she did, she billowed out her feather down jacket across Waverly's shoulders, and then drew the covering around both of them, encasing both of them in an impossibly soft cocoon. Blessed _warmth_ enveloped Waverly, especially from the lake lady's body, and Waverly leaned into it, drinking it in like water in the desert, continuing to shudder from the prolonged winter exposure.

 

Pressed up against the lake lady, Waverly couldn't help but breath in her scent. She didn't know the names of all the different smells in the world, not yet. She couldn't say what a white flower smelled like as opposed to a purple one, nor could she say why the yellow dish soap smelled better than the orange stuff. But the lake lady smelled like _home:_ Like freshly washed sheets and oatmeal cookies and a field of summer wheat. She didn't actually smell like she'd just rolled in laundry detergent or baked goods or tall grass, but at the same time she also kinda smelled like all of them at once. Waverly very quickly decided she liked it.

 

For a brief moment, the rolling clouds above them once again obscured the light of the moon, plunging the lake into relative darkness. Waverly looked up, and she could just make out the shape of a long, curved neck of a grease bent towards her. Not moving to attack, just watching.

 

Then the clouds parted once again, and the light revealed the face of the lake lady, a concerned expression etched into her furrowed brows.

 

“A-are you the Snow Princess?” Waverly asked suddenly as a memory came to her unbidden.

 

The lake lady's brows shot up in surprised confusion, and then a smile dimpled her pale cheeks. “A Snow Princess?”

 

Waverly shook her head. “ _The_ Snow Princess.” She reiterated, drawing out the “e” in her first word.

 

The lake lady laughed softly, gently, and she pulled Waverly tighter against her wonderfully warm body, a move which Waverly accepted gladly as her shivering was starting to die down. Waverly could feel a gust of wind once again envelop them, but this time it was completely buffeted by the feather down which cloaked both of them. “I don't think that I am. At least not _The_ Snow Princess. Who is she?”

 

Waverly let her head rest against the lake lady's bare shoulder, her cheek regaining feeling as it was protected from the cold and pressed against vibrant skin. “My uncle Curtis told me once that, that the Snow Princess is the spirit of winter, a-and that all of the snow flakes are her tears.”

 

The lake lady moved her head –though pressed against her shoulder as she was Waverly couldn't see towards what– and hummed thoughtfully. “She must be a very sad princess, then, to shed so many tears,” she murmured quietly, distantly, almost as if she wasn't talking to Waverly.

 

Unsure of herself, and of her new friend(?), Waverly only nodded.

 

“Well, I've shed a few tears myself, but not nearly enough to cover the entire world with snow, so I doubt that I'm _The_ Snow Princess.”

 

Waverly glanced up at the moon, shining with it's bluish gray light down on her and her companion. After a beat, she asked, “But you can still be _a_ Snow Princess?”

 

The shoulder beneath her cheek rumbled with a soft chuckle. “Yes, I suppose I can.” Waverly felt a hand push her head back gently, and found herself looking into big brown eyes framed by very pretty wrinkles of laughter at the corners. “And what about you little one, who do you happen to be?”

 

Waverly huffed in annoyance. “I'm not _little_! I'm just kinda short for my age is all.”

 

The lake lady brought a soft-looking hand to her chest in what Waverly thought might be a gesture of apology. Her suspicion was confirmed when she replied “I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it at all. And to be fair, as tall as I am, most people are littler than me.”

 

Squinting one eye more than the other, Waverly regarded her cautiously, looking her up and down as much as their proximity would permit. “You _are_ pretty tall,” she finally relented.

 

Lake lady smiled at the victory, but not in a _I beat you! I win!_ 'Nonna way. As if to underscore that difference, she held two fingers over her heart. “But I'll promise never to call you little again, if that's what you want?”

 

A genuine smile bloomed over Waverly's face, and she nodded shyly. Lake lady smiled even brighter in turn. Then an errant zephyr made itself known, and though it utterly failed to penetrate the down which covered them both, it did try to rudely worm its frigid fingers into the space between them. Waverly gave another shiver, and leaned back into the lake lady's embrace, letting her warmth chase away the numbing coldness that had just a few minutes earlier threatened to eat all the way to her core.

 

“So, what should I call you then?”

 

The smile on Waverly's face faltered, and she worried her lower lip with her teeth. When she didn't answer right away, she expected some kind of question or movement, but none came.

 

Moments passed, before Waverly slowly answered “My Daddy says that you should be careful about who you give your name to, that names have power.”

 

Lake lady gave a snort –but Waverly had a feeling that it wasn't really a laugh– and once again turned to look at she knew not what. “Your father is wiser than even he knows,” she intoned with as much warmth as the wind around them.

 

Waverly shrugged. “At some things, I guess.”

 

Her companion's attention once again turned back to her. “But not others?” She probed gently.

 

Again, a shrug. “Momma didn't think he was wise about a lot of stuff. 'S probably why she left.”

 

Silence blanketed them as much as the feather down, interrupted only by the ebbing and flowing hiss of the wind.

 

“Your Momma... _left_ you?” The incredulity was apparent in her voice.

 

Waverly could only nod. “Last year. Just packed a suitcase and... left.”

 

For several moments, Waverly heard her new friend open and close her mouth several times, each time punctuated by a click of teeth and the faint sound of grinding molars. Then, she felt one of the lake lady's arms come up and rub her shoulder in a soothing motion as she let out a very long sigh. “I'm so sorry. That's a terrible thing for any child to have to live through.” A beat passed. “I don't know that much about you, but what I do know tells me that you didn't deserve to be... _abandoned_ like that.” She spat out the last bit of the sentence with such pained emphasis that Waverly couldn't help but wriggle in mild discomfort.

 

“She didn't... abandon us. I mean... not really. Daddy is... well... he's...” Waverly couldn't complete the thought. She stammered for a few moments before giving up entirely and burrowing a little closer into lake lady's side.

 

She knew Daddy was a hard man to love. She knew that Daddy didn't love her as much as he did 'Nonna and Willa. She knew that he tried sometimes to be good, but that he wasn't always up to the task. And he hadn't hit her, not ever, not like some other bad parents she'd heard of. But any words she tried to bring to her mouth to defend him died on her tongue. She shook her head slightly, frustrated by a man she couldn't defend any more than she could condemn.

 

“You are such a brave soul, and you've had to deal with so much in so little time.” The lake lady once again gently pressed some distance between them so she could look at her face, reaching for a tear on Waverly's cheek that she hadn't realized had fallen from her eyes. “Are you sure that _you're_ not the Snow Princess?”

 

Waverly shook her head, adamant. “Nuh-uh. I can't turn into a grease like you can.”

 

Lake lady's brows furrowed in bewilderment. “A... 'grease'?”

 

“You know... wings, long neck, go 'quack'?”

 

Her brows remained furrowed for a moment and a half, her eyes darting to and fro across Waverly's face as she tried to understand something. Then Waverly could almost see the light bulb pop over her head like in the old cartoons, and she watched rapturously as the lake lady let out a delighted peal of laughter. After it died down, she focused back on Waverly, and with a very toothy grin she explained, “I think the word you're looking for is 'geese', no 'r'. And since English is one of the oddest languages I've ever encountered, you should also know that 'geese' are plural , but a 'goose' is singular.”

 

Waverly nodded studiously, taking in the both the stated lesson and the unstated one as well.

 

Lake lady looked off to the side slightly with a dimpled smirk as she added lightly, “Besides, I'm pretty sure that I'm a swan, not a goose.”

 

With that simple admission, a gasp escaped Waverly's lips. Somehow, she hadn't expected lake lady to just... come out and _admit_ it: That she was very much a not-regular human like Waverly had been repeatedly told throughout her life just didn't exist. “So... you really are...” the awed question trailed off on her tongue.

 

Glancing back towards her from the corner of her eye, lake lady grinned fully yet again. “Devastatingly beautiful while wearing a silken evening gown that never gets dirty no matter how many peat bogs I swim through? How kind of you to say!”

 

Waverly was annoyed, but couldn't stop the grin on her own face. She had a feeling that 'Nonna would probably like her new friend. “No, silly.” She emphasized her point with a poke into lake lady's side. “I mean, you're... _magic_.”

 

Her friend's rakish grin faltered, and she couldn't meet Waverly's eyes for a moment, thinking about something. “I... have been touched by magic. But I was once as you are now.”

 

She tilted her head, trying to understand. “You mean, you used to be a girl, but then you became a swan?”

 

“...Something like that, yes.”

 

Waverly's brow furrowed. “You don't seem very happy about it.”

 

Lake lady tilted her head back and gazed up at the stars above them. Glancing along her line of sight, Waverly noted that the clouds had mostly broken up, and she could see stars shining down on them, though most of the smaller ones were drowned out by the fluorescent light of the moon. “Should I be?” Her friend asked, distantly.

 

Noting the slightly pained look on her friend's face, Waverly leaned back into her side, though still gazing up towards the heavens of the night with her. After two moments of thought, she tried to answer the question, “Well... you can fly, can't you? A-and you don't have to worry about schools or banks or robbers. Plus, you have this really pretty feather coat that never gets cold. Those would make me happy.”

 

A soft, mirthless laugh. “Yes, those are all true. But I can't see any of my loved ones, and none of the other swans want anything to do with me either, and I have to worry about wolves trying to eat me. Plus, the only time I can be who I really am is on a night like tonight.”

 

It was a lot to take in, and Waverly mulled over all the information. She turned the answer in her head this way and that in her mind, trying to parse all that had been said, and what that meant for her friend. By this point, everything but her butt –which was still seated on the cold, damp soil– had warmed back up to the point where she didn't need to shiver like a jack hammer just to keep feeling in her extremities, but she stayed pressed still against her friend's side. Her presence almost reminded her of Momma before she left, or 'Nonna on the very rare occasion when she could be pried away from Willa and convinced to spend some time with Waverly.

 

Finally, she decided upon something important. “I think that maybe we're both Snow Princesses.” She declared with the utmost solemnity.

 

Lake lady outright _giggled_ next to her, and Waverly's mouth twitched into a smile despite herself. “You sure seem determined to make at least one of us into a princess.”

 

“What? Princesses are awesome.”

 

A lower chuckle this time, but still one that Waverly enjoyed listening to as her ear was pressed against her friend's shoulder. “Then it is my honor to be a princess in good company.” She paused for a moment. “Though I don't think that Alberta could survive having two _Snow_ princesses, spring would never come and the land would be kept in eternal snow.”

 

“Well... then you can be the Princess of the Swans?”

 

A low, doubtful hum resonated in her chest. “I'd be a princess in exile in that case, for all that the other swans want to be around me. But then... I suppose that's actually rather fitting.” Her friend seemed to think about something for a moment. Then, she felt her turning towards her, pushing her back slightly so that they could look directly at each other once again. Drawing herself up into a fully upright posture and with a regally upturned chin, her friend addressed her with as much an air of royalty as she could. “I, who once was Nicole of Quebec, hereby address thee as the Swan Princess of Alberta.”

 

Nicole. _Nicole._ Waverly turned the name over in her mind several times, pleased beyond reason to finally have a name to call her new friend besides _Lake lady_. Blinking at this new information, and swept up in the moment, Waverly found herself smiling as she too sat as stiffly upright as she could and responded, “And I, who was once Waverly of... um, Purgatory, hereby address thee as the Snow Princess of Alberta.”

 

Nicole's smile was warmer even than her feather down as she regarded Waverly. “It's an honor to meet you, Princess Waverly.”

 

Waverly could only duck her head shyly in response, a grin threatening to split her face open.

 

“So... may I ask what such a brave and noble princess is doing out here all alone on a night like this?”

 

The grin dropped away immediately.

 

After a moment of chewing on her lip, Waverly looked back up at Nicole, noticing the worried look on her face. “I think I'm also in that _exile_ thing.” When Nicole only tilted her head slightly at her with an expectant expression, she continued, “My sisters, Willa and 'Nonna, they don't want me around. Willa really _hates_ me. And today she... she...” She swallowed heavily. “She burned Mr. Gordo.”

 

At Nicole's furrowed expression, she hastened to explain as fast as the words could leave her mouth. “Mr. Gordo is a stuffed pig, I've had him since I really was little. I really love him. But 'Nonna says that I'm too old to have stuffed animals anymore, and Willa, she hates him even more than she hates me. So today, she- she put him on the stove while it was lit and said 'We're having bacon!'” Her voice shook with emotion, the flower of anger blooming in her chest even as tears once again threatened to spill down her cheeks. “A-a-and 'Nonna just laughed, like it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen! They hate me! And I don't know why but they _hate_ me!”

 

She was trembling, but not from the cold. Her eyes stung with saline. Her nose was clogged and needed to be blown. And her heart alternated between exploding with fury and collapsing into a bottomless pit of misery.

 

Her reverie was interrupted by hands on her shoulders. She looked up, and Nicole was staring at her, distraught, uncertain. Nicole opened her mouth, but nothing came out of it. Finally, she instead tugged gently on her shoulders, and Waverly very quickly leaned fully into Nicole's soft, sturdy frame, sobbing softly. “Why –do they –hate me so –much?” She asked between strangled hiccups as tears streamed down onto the silver dress.

 

Waverly could feel Nicole wrapping her arms around her, and felt them rocking back and forth together in a gentle motion. She couldn't tell who was leading it, but at that moment, she didn't care. She was tired, her butt was cold and damp, her family hated her with the dispassionate glare of the sun, and Nicole was an oasis of warm gentleness that she was all to happy to drink from until she burst.

 

+++

 

Waverly drifted slowly into consciousness. Someone was humming a soft tune that vibrated gently throughout her body. She was encased in warmth, and softness, and love, and it felt _wonderful_.

 

Except for her butt. That was still cold and damp.

 

Awareness of her posterior and its complaints brought with it the memory of where she was, and who she was leaning against. Blinking the sleep away from her eyes, she leaned back away from Nicole's frame. The moon still shone on the mostly frozen lake beside them and illuminated her sharp, well-defined features with its ethereal blue glow, but from a different position now that the moon had traveled quite a bit through its arc across the sky.

 

Nicole had stopped her humming as soon as Waverly had begun to stir, and now she looked carefully at her. “You nodded off there for a bit. Feeling better?”

 

Waverly took a moment to think about that. Though her butt felt grody and in dire need of a bath to clean the dirt out of places that dirt had no business being in, the rest of her body was comfortable, cozily encased as it was in Nicole's feather down. Even her nose and cheeks were only mildly chilly in stark contrast to the freezing winds which she was certain were still blowing all around them, albeit with less gusto than before.

 

But most importantly, she didn't feel like her heart was about to trapeze out of her chest and launch into a long-winded play about loss and vengeance with one of those bronzed happy face / sad face masks.

 

So she nodded. “A little, yeah.”

 

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips. “Good. I think you needed a bit of rest. I'm glad it helped.”

 

Waverly nodded again, a small smile at her own lips as well. A loud grumble from her stomach interrupted any other contribution she would have made though, and she was suddenly reminded of the fact that she had fled the homestead a couple of hours before supper was to be served, and now it was easily past the middle of the night. Her smile became embarrassed, and she added, “Sorry.”

 

The easy and gentle smile which had turned the corners of Nicole's mouth upwards dissipated, replaced by a worried look of concern... and guilt. Her friend looked at her with those soft brown eyes of hers for a moment, before she tentatively admitted, “Waverly... I think we should get you back to your home.”

 

Her own eyes widened with shock, betrayal. “What?! I _told_ you what happened, I _can't_ go back there!”

 

Nicole's face blanched at the shout directed at her, but she visibly swallowed before very softly explaining, “I know, what your sisters did to you was awful. And I don't want to think about what kind of man your father is. But Waverly... I don't have any food I can give you.” Nicole's eyes fretted around their surroundings for a moment before landing back on her. “ _Especially_ during the winter months. Sometimes I have to go a full week before I can find something to eat just for myself.” Another visible swallow. “Sometimes longer.”

 

Waverly's anger and indignation deflated like a popped balloon, and she exhaled with the release. “I'm sorry,” she uttered, “I didn't know.”

 

Nicole gave a wan smile and squeezed her shoulder with a free hand. “Besides, as soon as the moon sets, I'll stop being a princess and turn back into a swan. And I'm afraid I'm not much of a talker when I don't have lips.”

 

With a slow nod, Waverly acknowledged the truth of the matter. Regardless of how supportive her new friend had been to her tonight, she couldn't stay out here. “But how do I go back there?” She asked quietly, her voice almost breaking.

 

A sigh was blown out, followed shortly by Nicole pressing Waverly into her side which she accepted readily. Silence followed for several moments as her friend apparently gathered her thoughts. She seemed to do that a lot. How does one gather a thought, anyways? Is there a special net that you have to use?

 

“I don't have an easy answer for you, Princess.” Nicole finally began, the slow lilt of her voice indicating the care with which she chose her words. “Your family harmed you, and you need to let them know just how much what they did hurt you, and how **not** -okay that is. If they truly love you, then they'll take the lesson to heart. If not...” Nicole's voice trailed off. Waverly kept her vigil burrowed into her side, waiting for the words that could possibly make everything okay, even though she had a sinking feeling that nothing really would.

 

“...if not, then you should do whatever you can to guard yourself against them. Even if that means hiding what's important to you from their sight.”

 

Waverly was really starting to _hate_ when her sinking feelings were right. “You mean... I have to hide anything else that I love... forever?”

 

Nicole shook her head vehemently. “No, nonono, not _forever_. You can't live like that, Waverly. No one can.” Her friend paused for a moment. “Think... think of it like planting a seed in winter. The seed can't grow while the ground is frozen solid, but as soon as it thaws, or as soon as a bird picks it up and drops it someplace warmer and more fertile, then it can bloom into the thriving plant it should be.”

 

Waverly took her time absorbing Nicole's words, letting the rustle of the pine trees and the muted howl of the wind across frozen water play out as the desolate music of the North.

 

She didn't want to go back to the homestead. She didn't want to have to talk to Willa again, knowing that she wanted to burn anything of Waverly's that was important to her. She didn't want to have to listen to 'Nonna again, knowing just how easily she laughed at Waverly's misery. She didn't want to have to look at her father and not know if she would have to face his indifference or his cold fury. She very much wanted instead to stay here, tucked into Nicole's warm side.

 

But... if she couldn't do that...

 

Then she would become the winter seed, and wait for the spring.

 

“I... I understand.”

 

She felt her new friend turn to look at her. “Yeah?”

 

Waverly broke apart from their embrace and looked back at Nicole. She looked into those very pretty eyes one more time before resolutely nodding her head. “Yeah.”

 

A brave smile greeted her. “Then how about we get you on your way? I can help to take you as far as the edge of the forest.”

 

Nodding her assent, Waverly agreed, “I'd like that.”

 

+++

 

They walked through the forest, side by side, their path illuminated by the moon almost directly overhead. Waverly didn't know exactly how they were able to walk abreast of each other without tripping each other up, much less while Nicole had her feather down wrapped around both of them, but they managed.

 

For not the first time that night, she marveled at how utterly impervious that magical down was to the arctic wind which at points tried to blow them completely down. Even if it was part of something that Nicole really didn't want, Waverly couldn't help but be a little bit envious.

 

They walked in silence for the most part, save for the winter song of wind and crunching snow. Finally though, Waverly's curiosity got the better of her. “Why moonlight?” She asked as they made their way around a felled tree trunk.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“Why moonlight, to show the real you? Why not... firefly light? O-or a fluorescent light?”

 

Nicole snorted in that not-a-laugh way. “You'd have to ask the woman who cast the spell in the first place. Witches tend to have an affinity for the moon, though I've no idea why.”

 

A rough, masculine voice rang out behind them, stopping Nicole dead in her tracks and nearly tripping Waverly with the motion. “I do believe that is because the Moon itself is _quite_ magical.”

 

Nicole wheeled them around rapidly, and nearly as soon as they did, a mustachioed man in a full length leather duster and a dark cowboy hat stepped out from behind a tree forty paces away. Waverly doubted that he was any taller than Nicole was, but something about his stance and aura as he stood regarding them with a placid smile _radiated_ menace.

 

“Henry.” Nicole greeted coldly.

 

“I've told you, my name is Doc. And yes, witches do like to call upon that silvery orb, because it is the very source of their power. You wouldn't ask Mr. Morning Star to call upon anything other than fire and brimstone, now would you?”

 

Waverly swore she could hear the sneer in Nicole's voice as she retorted, “Okay Henry, I get it, you read 'Paradise Lost', congratulations.”

 

The man –Henry– shook his head. “It continues to trouble me how little you appreciate history. How better can we prepare ourselves for the future, if not by looking to the lessons of the past?”

 

Nicole's grip on Waverly tightened. “You're not out here tonight to talk about history.” It wasn't a question.

 

Doc grinned, and Waverly felt her heart begin to pound inside of her chest as she saw the _fangs_ glistening in his mouth. “Oh, but I am. I saw what happened to Bobo... turned into a slavering, rabid beast, too emaciated to even think.” He spat at the ground. “I ain't going out like that. Not before I find a way to wrap my jaws around that _witch's_ throat.”

 

Waverly could feel the tension in Nicole's body beside her. She dared for a moment to look away from Henry and instead back towards the direction they were heading before they were stopped by this confrontation. She still couldn't see anything but the endless expanse of forest, with no end in sight. Even if it were possible to run away, without Nicole guiding her Waverly would probably get lost, possibly ending right back at the lake again. She turned back as Nicole called out, “Alright Henry, I get it, you want to survive. So do I. What of it?”

 

The smile at his lips twitched, and though Waverly hadn't thought it possible, his visage somehow became even more terrifying as his expression shifted from a feral grin to... _feral,_ and his dark eyes flashed yellow as they locked onto her own. “That's a mighty fine-looking morsel you've got yourself there.”

 

Nicole bristled beside her, her feet shifting beneath her and her muscles coiling themselves, and she snarled, “You are _not_ going to hurt this girl just because your belly is rumbling, Henry!”

 

Henry stopped pinning Waverly to the ground with his salivating gaze long enough to sneer back at Nicole. “You're a ways off from your precious lake, _Nicole_. These are _my_ woods, and I have claim to any game that wanders through them.”

 

A flicker of light caught her eye, and Waverly dared to look up for a moment. The previously clear night sky was once again starting to fill with clouds as they were pushed by the arctic winds, and the edges of the moon were starting to become obscured by wisps of vapor.

 

“You're not hurting her, Henry,” Nicole reiterated coldly.

 

An impossibly inhuman growl issued from his throat, and he began to stalk forward. “I told you... my name... _is Doc_!”

 

A bank of clouds rushed in to close the gap above them, blotting out the light of the moon, and just as it did, Henry's visage shimmered. Waverly couldn't stop the blood-curdling scream that issued from her throat as she watched his mirage of humanity fade away to be replaced with the sleek, powerful, and deadly form of a timber wolf as it launched itself towards her.

 

 +++

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter, the fight of the century between Nicole and Doc, the arrival of Wynonna, and more drama at the Earp homestead! 
> 
> Also, why yes, I *did* name this chapter after a Bette Midler lyric, how kind of you to notice! But while we're on the subject, some other acknowledgements that I have to make here to avoid being struck down by the Academic Integrity gods:
> 
> The name and concept of "The Snow Princess" is borrowed directly from "Shirahime-Syo" by CLAMP (2001).
> 
> I'm also borrowing a couple of concepts from "Wolf's Rain" (2003), particularly as applied to Doc and Bobo, but nothing so direct as the Snow Princess nod.
> 
> Mr. Gordo is borrowed from an equally young Buffy, but don't worry, we only burned a stunt double.
> 
> This kidney is borrowed from the kind man whom I just happened to find in a bathtub full of icecubes in Tijuana.
> 
> And I'm on borrowed time, so goodnight everybody! See you next chapter! *is dragged offstage by a giant hook*
> 
> (PS: I'm accepting resumes for Betas, please have either a list of references, the soul of your firstborn child, or a willingness to put up with cheesy jokes!)


End file.
